Chapter 139: Fanning the Flames

It could be said that these contracts clearly and vividly demonstrated how a once-thriving, top-tier star had fallen.

The contracts were genuine.

Someone had even gone out of their way to verify them with a lawyer.

However, leaving aside the other minor roles that netizens had no impression of, let us consider the role of Concubine Ya, Zhou Ya, from the phenomenal mega-hit television series The Empress from a few years prior. Although her screen time was quite limited, and people did not have a strong impression of the character...

Yet, that television series had been so wildly popular that even though everyone had now forgotten the name of the actress who played Zhou Ya, netizens remembered one thing crystal clear—

This character, who only appeared a few times before being written off, was definitely not played by the so-called "legal wife" in the video, right?

Furthermore, the contracts stated that Zhou Ya's role was effectively the fifth female lead. Yet everyone knew that Zhou Ya in the series was nothing more than an insignificant extra who made a few brief appearances before meeting her demise, right?

If you are going to fabricate lies, at least make them believable!

Even if you wanted to trample on Tang Su and Han Sen and ensure they could never make a comeback, you cannot treat netizens like fools!

The netizens were on the verge of fury!

However, because the videos and audio clips released by Song Wan were entirely authentic evidence, the netizens, despite their anger, were still able to maintain their composure and refrained from unleashing vicious curses.

Yet, damn it, they refused to be taken for fools either. The reason they held back from hurling abuse was out of fear that there might eventually be a plot twist. Therefore, everyone maintained extreme restraint and rationality, flooding Song Wan's Weibo comments section to ask her for an explanation.

Just as Song Wan was pondering how to clarify the matter thoroughly without bringing trouble upon herself, the director of The Empress stepped forward.

As mentioned in the preamble, The Empress was the highest-rated phenomenal television series of recent years.

Because of this, every single role within it—even if they did not yield obvious benefits such as skyrocketing fame or an immense surge in wealth—had the experience of acting in The Empress added to their resumes as an indelible badge of honor.

If the character was particularly captivating, it was not entirely impossible for that role to become their signature character in the future.

Precisely because the status of The Empress was so lofty, many people had once tried to latch onto the production crew to piggyback on its popularity. This was why the netizens had initially been reluctant to believe the claims, feeling as though they might have been deceived—

*If you want to cling to someone's coattails and ride their coattails for fame, at least be a bit more subtle about it,* many people had thought.

However, the director of The Empress stepping forward instantly transformed Song Wan's previously questioned evidence into irrefutable proof!

The director's name was Di Ku. He excelled at historical palace intrigue dramas and was considered an authority in that genre of filmmaking.

Yet, his public statement was so blunt and straightforward that anyone could instantly sense the burning fury contained within it—

Di Ku V: @Song Wan's evidence is real. The actress originally signed for the role of Zhou Ya was indeed Song Wan. Everyone in our production crew unanimously agreed that only Song Wan could portray the true essence of this character. In the end, however, because of @Tang Su and @Mingcheng Pictures, we were forced to abandon Song Wan and instead chose another actress with whom we were thoroughly unsatisfied. Because the other party could not convey the true depth of the character, the screenwriter was even forced to delete the vast majority of Zhou Ya's scenes.

Following Song Wan's example, Di Ku even went so far as to directly publish the original contracts.

Perhaps thinking that since he had already gone this far, he might as well go all the way, he also released the entirety of Zhou Ya's original script lines and scenes.

Zhou Ya was a minor character who died early, not exceptionally pretty, but possessing a pair of stunning eyes.

She came from a family of scholars, was well-versed in the Four Books and Five Classics, excelled at poetry and prose, knew how to brew tea and cultivate flowers, and loved the qin, chess, calligraphy, and painting...

Yet she had always lived a quiet life, hiding in her own little corner, never once harboring any thoughts of contending for imperial favor.

Still, a twist of fate pushed her before the Emperor, and she was favored by him.

What would have been considered a supreme blessing for any other concubine or palace maid was, to Zhou Ya, nothing short of the ultimate tragedy. She was far too naive; even after entering the palace, she retained the innocence and romanticism of a young maiden. What she truly desired was to find "a handsome and talented scholar, to play the zithers in harmony with him, and to treat each other with mutual respect."

Even though this dream had long since shattered, she stubbornly held onto it—"unwilling to be with that old man of an emperor. If it came to that, she would rather depart with her purity intact."

However, imperial authority was supreme, and Zhou Ya was far too intelligent. She knew that for the sake of her family, she could not defy the Emperor's summons.

Even so, she still prayed, hoping that the Emperor, repulsed by her unremarkable appearance, would lose interest after sleeping with her just once.

Yet the reality was that the Emperor was, after all, an emperor. Having beheld countless beauties, how could he possibly fail to see through the beautiful soul concealed beneath Zhou Ya's ordinary exterior?

Thus, she became the Emperor's favored consort, her dominance in the harem unrivaled for a time.

But in the imperial palace, the tallest tree catches the wind.

Zhou Ya's family was merely a scholarly household lacking formidable political backing.

In less than a month, she suffered a miscarriage due to "accidentally ingesting" safflower, and ultimately died of severe hemorrhaging.

Yet, despite a mere month of favor, she left the deepest and most indelible mark upon the Emperor's heart. To his dying day, he never forgot her, even going so far as to break ancestral tradition to have her tomb placed right beside his own.

One must know that the only person permitted to share a burial chamber with the Emperor was the Empress.

One could easily imagine just how immense an actor's skill must be to portray a character of unremarkable appearance in a way that left the Emperor endlessly pining for her charm.

At the same time, this required the actress herself to possess formidable self-confidence. Despite having an appearance that was not conventionally striking, she had to be capable of drawing everyone's gaze toward her involuntarily—

At the very least, whenever she appeared while playing Zhou Ya, it was necessary, and mandatory, that everyone's eyes be riveted to her sheer magnetism.

After reading the script, everyone looked back at Zhou Ya's actual screen time in the television series, only to be struck dumb with astonishment—

Director, we need to have a serious talk about the meaning of life!

What do you mean by deleting the majority of her scenes? Was that the majority? That was clearly all of them, wasn't it?

Zhou Ya, who was originally so overwhelmingly charismatic that even the appearance of the realm's foremost beauty would be completely eclipsed by her splendor, reducing others to vulgar mediocrity, had somehow been warped into a flat, predictable trope: the daughter of a minor official who gained brief imperial favor solely because her looks resembled the Emperor's beloved white moonlight, "Concubine Ya," only to be maliciously murdered out of jealousy by others.

Director, you absolute piece of trash!

Many netizens nearly rushed over to the director's Weibo page to curse him straight into his grave.

There was no helping it; often, the deeper the love, the harsher the criticism. The status of The Empress in the hearts of netizens was irreplaceable—at least for the past decade, that was an absolute certainty.

And now?

The television series that netizens had previously deemed so flawless it could never be surpassed was now being revealed by the director himself to have originally featured a breathtakingly ethereal beauty. This character would have added immense depth to the plot, fleshed out the Emperor's character arc, and made an already magnificent show even better.

Yet the reality was that this role had been obliterated straight out of existence by the director...

The screenwriter had written it brilliantly, and the original plot line possessed far more depth and twists than what was actually filmed. Who among those who had read the script dared to say it wasn't good? Without needing to consult their consciences, everyone knew that the uncut version was vastly more classic than the aired version.

Yet a single character ruined everything.

The fans of The Empress were instantly consumed by resentment—

Good grief, someone beat this rotten director to a pulp!

While netizens and fans cheered each other on in hurling abuses, Director Di Ku refused to take the blame lying down.

Di Ku V: Haven't I made myself perfectly clear? Only Song Wan could portray the true essence of this character. Otherwise, any attempt would be like trying to paint a tiger and ending up with a dog, ultimately turning into the greatest flaw of the series. However, certain people were unwilling to let her rise to prominence, forcing the production crew to abandon this actress. What could I possibly do? I am not the financial backer; how could I have the final say on everything?

With a single Weibo post, Di Ku immediately pushed Tang Su and Mingcheng Pictures into the glaring spotlight.

Judging by Di Ku's words, it was blatantly obvious that Tang Su and Mingcheng Pictures had forcibly replaced the sole actress capable of embodying the inner soul of the character!

All the netizens could not help but recall that endlessly long, seemingly bottomless compilation of contracts released by Song Wan...

Damn it, the rumors about Tang Su suppressing newcomers were actually true after all!

Meanwhile, this Song Wan, whom Di Ku praised to the high heavens, also sparked the curiosity of the netizens—

They had initially assumed this Song Wan was simply the Song Wan they already knew, but calculating the timeline...

Wait a minute, The Empress aired several years ago. To achieve perfection, the filming alone took a full two years, not to mention casting auditions and adapting the script...

"Does the age even match?" asked a netizen who had first noticed the discrepancy, speaking in a timid voice.

Yet, in a mere fraction of a second, that comment was buried beneath a flood of new posts, failing to attract much attention.

Until others discovered that the signing date on the contract for The Empress released by Song Wan was eight years ago...

Holy moly, Song Wan would have been only twelve years old eight years ago, right? Was the Emperor a pedophile or something?

Moreover, Zhou Ya was a talented woman of ordinary looks but matchless inner grace and intellect. In terms of physical appearance alone, Song Wan did not match the prototype of the character either!

Even among Song Wan's anti-fans, no one had ever claimed she was ugly; her stunning beauty was a universally acknowledged fact nationwide.

Regarding this, Di Ku only offered a single sentence—

This Song Wan is not that Song Wan.

Only then did the gears in the netizens' minds finally turn—

The actress who didn't look like much, but was Han Sen's "true love," and whose man was stolen and who was suppressed by Tang Su, was also named Song Wan?

Song Wan immediately acknowledged this on Weibo, making no attempt to conceal her deep admiration for the "Song Wan" of the past.

"She is a true actress."

As Song Wan typed those words, her cheeks flushed instantly.

How many fans did The Empress have? Essentially, every single citizen of the Nine Provinces was a fan of The Empress.

When they grew angry, just how terrifying was their combat capability?

Ahem, one only needed to look at Mingcheng Pictures and Tang Su—along with Han Sen, who seemingly had nothing to do with The Empress—whose Weibo accounts were instantly blown to smithereens, to find out.

Tang Su and Han Sen had already fallen into a state where everyone cried out for them to be beaten, and because they had dragged Mingcheng Pictures down with them this time, it was utterly impossible for them to ever climb back up again.

Song Wan no longer needed to lift a finger; they had already plunged deep into the mire.

Yet for Song Wan, this was still far from enough—

Between them, there was far more than just ruined careers and the bitter resentment of betrayed affections; standing between them... was also a living, breathing human life—her own!

Song Wan requested leave in advance and arrived at the prison on the outskirts of the capital.

Qi Lang looked at the woman sitting opposite him. After a momentary flash of bewilderment in his eyes, he frowned: "Who are you? I don't know you!"

Because he had turned himself in, Qi Lang had not been sentenced to death.

Later on, perhaps due to good behavior in prison, his suspended death sentence had been commuted to life imprisonment.

Yet, Song Wan curled the corners of her lips into a smile: "My name is Song Wan. Do you not recognize me anymore?"

Qi Lang was first startled into shock, dragging his chair backward with a harsh, grating screech that drew fierce glares from the other visiting inmates and a cautionary look from a prison guard.

Regaining his composure, Qi Lang reluctantly returned to his original seat.